Longing happiness

Happier times are rare this days,
estrangered by acts of craziness some celebrations,
appreciating each moment becomes glorious.
Compared to a woman who just wants to know you,
its like a charm but more charismatic,
not pleasently regretful,but your consciousness acts.
So poor yet gladly well it has nothing to do with suffering nor disappointment but beauty.
Happier times are not sinful,
its a part of us we can not hide,
bitter we are indescribable longing,
your heart will rage with great pressure and shes waiting for you to frame the picture,
let it slide,peering through those eyes while pouring your heart.
Its the one you love that makes it a happier time even when we cry.

A simple thought

A nation isnt made up of colours and languages,but two people a man and a woman the rest are just reflections of their doings.

Confused"Self image"

We have something in common,the same eye sight and laughter.The same date of birth and image,we are somehow similar though we are no familiar.
Are we from the same mother because my tone still sounds sour.

Not yet but close to a "sonnet"

He had it with him,slow perch incore by the silence crowd announced.
whoote the sound of fight,fought to repend no more scattered.
Not pain just a lesson portials awaken/arise like day light is no longer...
Loud noise from the bushes that beast hasnt laid its head down,mouning such survival.
Waiting...time runs like a fly buzzes for freedom that an escape,
Darkness dawn,still rise bittererd like a wild bull in a struggle.
Not many but few,how unfair yet patiency rages like haunted flames.But that leaves me with no choice i wait again.